


The Price of Victory

by Asynca



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen, Pre-Slash, look the point is to imagine some hurt comfort okay, spoilers for 8.1+ content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 10:37:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17702777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asynca/pseuds/Asynca
Summary: Shandris begins to help Maiev come to terms with the loss of Sira.





	The Price of Victory

Cobblestones certainly weren’t the ground Shandris was used to tracking foe across. She had rather a difficult time of it—did these blasted trees never drop a single leaf?—and and would rather have enjoyed being able to question Stormwind citizens about what they might have seen instead, had they been awake. Unfortunately, it was the early hours of the morning and the only humans awake were the Stormwind guard. Shandris privately thought the guard were the people in all of Stormwind _least_ likely to notice anything at all useful to Stormwind’s security.

Eventually, her search directed her to a wooden staircase that lead underground: the Stockades.

She stopped in place and _laughed._ Of course Maiev was inspecting Stormwind’s jail—of course she was! Why had Shandris expected otherwise? She felt a fool for even bothering to look anywhere else when Maiev went missing from the keep. Still chuckling to herself, she descended the stairs.

Inside, her target was at the far end of one of the long rabbit-warren-like corridors, holding a roaring torch and facing one of the strongest cells.

“ _Here_ you are, sister!” Shandris called to her on approach, lest she sneak up and surprise her. Maiev seemed like the sort of person you wouldn’t want to surprise. “I’ve looked everywhere!”

Maiev didn’t turn to greet her. “Did Tyrande send you?” she asked dryly, but she didn’t wait for Shandris to reply before she laughed once at her suggestion. “I suppose not. If she had, you would have shoved me into one of these cells and thrown away the key by now.”

Shandris couldn’t read her expression thanks to that helmet of hers, but was fairly certain Maiev was joking. In case she wasn’t, she felt she should say something to Maiev’s comment. “Well, even if Tyrande _did_ still harbour old grudges against you, I doubt she’d lock up such an important general while we still don’t have Darkshore.”

Maiev’s helmet turned very slowly towards her. After a moment of peering silently at her, she laughed darkly and looked forward again. “If you think Tyrande ever placed ‘critical military and political strategy’ above ‘personal grudges I hold’, I’m afraid you don’t know your mother as well as you believe you do. Tyrande has a _long_ memory.”

Shandris’ instinct was to defend Tyrande—and she opened her mouth to do exactly that—but unfortunately when she reached for things Tyrande had done that contradicted Maiev, she came up rather short. Still, she felt that Maiev probably shouldn’t place all the blame on Tyrande for their feud. “As do you, I believe.”

Maiev appeared to consider it a moment. “Yes. As do I,” she conceded eventually.

They stood in the firelight. Maiev appeared to be lost in deep thought.

Shandris felt that she might be intruding to question her about the cell—but Maiev hadn’t moved to dismiss her, and Maiev wasn’t the sort of person who’d tolerate the presence of someone who wasn’t welcome. Shandris decided to risk it. “I assume you’re here to determine how Stormwind’s jails compare to ours?”

Maiev scoffed. “No jails compare to ours. Humans haven’t even existed as long as we’ve been master jailers.” Despite that broad claim, she added, “But yes, I’ve scouted this facility and examined all the cells. Should we need to contain Sira, this cell should be the cell we use.”

At ‘Sira’, Shandris felt a heaviness begin to form in her stomach.

“We’ll need somewhere secure, and somewhere big enough to interrogate her, of course. None of these cells are ideal, but this one will suffice.”

Shandris’ heart sank. She doubted very much this cell would ever need to be used. “I—don’t think Sira will come easily, Maiev.”

Maiev was unmoved. “Of course she won’t, I taught her well! But because _I_ taught her, I can stop her, too. I’m sure of it,” she told Shandris far too easily. “I know the orders aren’t to capture her, but if I’m there, _I’ll_ be the one giving the orders. No child king will tell me to slay my sister if she can instead be captured. Tyrande won’t, either, ‘Night Warrior’ or no. Sira is my subordinate, _I_ will school her. And it is here that I will do it.” She gestured at the cell.  

Shandris didn’t know what to say. They’d both seen Sira, they both knew what Sira had become. Sira was no more their sister than the Banshee Queen was, not anymore. She wouldn’t be captured, she wouldn’t come with them, and she wouldn’t submit to interrogation. Maiev of all people knew how this would end.

And yet, here she was.

Shandris exhaled, feeling an ache in her chest. “Of course. You should be the one to interrogate her.”

Shandris should have left and given Maiev some privacy then, then but she didn’t. She couldn’t dislodge the awful lump in her throat. Instead, they stood beside each other, silent, for a great deal of time.

Maiev’s torch was beginning to dim when she spoke again. “You think I’m a fool,” she accused Shandris, turning halfway towards her. Her voice was harsh, but she didn’t say it cruelly.

Shandris licked her lips and carefully considered her answer. “That is the very last thing that I think about you, sister,” she told Maiev, but then had this horrible vision of Maiev alone by this cell while the other Night Elves celebrated recovering a key piece of their homeland from the Horde. “I was… just considering how we are to best execute your plan. Perhaps after our victory at Darkshore, we should bring Sira here alone.”

Maiev appeared to considered that. “Hmm, you’re right, it’s probably best we question her in private,” she said sagely. “You can secure the cell and I will interrogate her. We will get to the bottom of this madness.” She sighed and shook her head. “They must have warped her mind somehow—that much I am sure of. My sister would never betray me, never. We were _family_.”

_Oh, Maiev_ … A knife turned in Shandris’ heart. “Of course.” She took a long, slow breath and managed, “Very well then, we have a plan.” She had reached out to touch Maiev’s hand in solidarity, forgetting that Maiev’s hand, like the rest of her, was encased in thick steel. The surface of it was warm, however, and there was skin somewhere underneath it, so she left it there for a moment. It was the gesture that mattered rather than the touch. “I look forward to us meeting here and making sense of this together.”

Maiev nodded once, and then turned sharply as she always did, her cloak fanning out behind her. “Come. Let’s tell the others.”

Shandris followed her out of the Stockades, and then assisted her to disseminate the orders amongst their soldiers before they set sail. A great many pairs of eyes glanced at each other, looked to Shandris for explanation, and then made whatever they did of Maiev’s plan when Shandris didn’t elaborate. All of them knew well who they had to kill in order to secure their victory.

And after that victory, while the rest of the night elves celebrated reclaiming Darkshore, Shandris would meet Maiev outside the cell Maiev had chosen. It would be just the two of them: Shandris, Maiev, and the empty chair in Sira's cell.

 

 


End file.
